Keeper's Promise
by BethCarielle
Summary: Darien recieves Claire's last gift in the end. Warning: Character death. Please read and review.
1. Secrets, Secrets

**Title: Keeper's Promise**

**Author: Beth Carielle**

**Rating: PG-13  Some language and just because**

**Genre: Drama/Angst**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from _The Invisible Man_, I'm not sure who they belong to anymore, I just like to write about them.**

**E-Mail: Bethcarielle@yahoo.com**

**Summary: Darien receives Claire's last gift in the end.**

**Warning: Character Death**

Chapter One: Secrets, Secrets 

Claire looked at her reflection in the mirror above her bathroom sink, she tried to ignore the dark circles under her eyes and the pale, hollow look of herself in general.  She was going to beat this thing, too many people depended on her, one in particular.

           Sighing, she left the bathroom and walked to her closet.  She pulled out a short sleeved shirt and slipped it over her head.  She froze, half dressed and remembered she couldn't wear it.  She roughly pulled it off and tossed it to the floor.  She held her arms out in front of her, eyeing the track marks that graced each forearm.  

'Damn injections anyways.' She thought.

She hadn't told anyone and wasn't going to start now by displaying her arms for everyone to see.  She picked up a long sleeved black shirt and pulled in on, who cared if it was July in San Diego, the lab was air conditioned.

Angry now, she stamped back to the bathroom to put on her make-up, a process that had recently become quite an ordeal as she tried to cover her sallow complexion and give herself a look of health.  She finished, said good-bye to Pavlov and left for the Harding Building.   

Claire arrived at work and plastered a lovely smile on her face.  She smiled at the security guard and took the elevator upstairs.  She walked down the empty halls to the lab.  That was one of the perks of arriving early, she was alone.  

She entered the lab, flicking on the lights, and began her morning rounds.  She checked her animals, booted up her computer, and dredging up that day's paperwork.  She checked the counteragent supply and decided to start another batch today.

Standing in front of the cooler, she looked past the vials of blue counteragent, focusing in the vial of yellowish liquid near the back.  Her own counteragent, at least she hoped it would be.  She had convinced her oncologist that she could dose herself since she was a doctor.

Speaking of which she was due for her next injection.  She opened the cooler and reached past Darien's lifeline and picked up her own.  Holding the small bottle she picked up a clean syringe and drew up the yellowish contents.  

She rolled up her left sleeve, yesterday had been right arm day.  Claire had become surprisingly adept at injecting herself, as the track marks proved, since the experimental chemotherapy had to be injected directly into a vein.

She tied the tourniquet around her upper arm and swabbed the swelling vein with alcohol.  She picked up the syringe and gently, though firmly slid the needle into her arm.  Hissing at the sharp sting, she began to depress the plunger.  

Claire was in mid injection when she heard the door to the Keep slide open.

"Hey Claire." Said Darien's voice behind her as he walked in.

"Shit!" she cursed under her breath, hastily withdrawing the syringe and yanking the tourniquet from her arm.  She reverently hoped that he hadn't seen.  

"Darien, you're early." She said as she casually pulled down her shirt sleeve and turned around, stealthily placing the syringe down on the counter.

"Umm…yeah.  Just needed a shot.  Are you alright?" asked Darien, concern tinting his voice.

"I'm fine, fine." Said Claire with forced cheerfulness that she hoped wasn't obvious.

Darien looked at her thoughtfully for a moment and then moved over to the chair.

Claire retrieved a vial of counteragent and another syringe.  She watched Darien roll up her sleeve and his faded track marks were visible, reminding her of her own too recent ones.  She silently prepped the waiting arm, ignoring the burning pain coursing through hers.  She injected the counteragent and looked up.

"There, all set." She said.  She could see the questions and concern in those liquid brown eyes.

"Thanks." He mumbled, pulling down his sleeve and standing up.  He started to leave the Keep when he paused and turned around.

"Hey…Claire, you know you can always tell me anything." He offered in a rush.

"Thank you Darien, but I'm fine, really." She responded calmly, even though her mind was screaming a different message, something along the lines of: "I have leukemia, but I haven't told anyone because I'm too stubborn and the experimental chemo may or may not work but I offered to try it anyways."

"I'm fine Darien, really." She reiterated and shooed him from the lab.

Claire tidied up the supply tray and swore when shaky hands caused her drop the box of alcohol wipes.  Looking at the white paper packets scattered across the floor reminded her of her own present life, which was also scattered in a unpleasant disarray.  

She sat down on the chair heavily and roughly wiped the silent tears from her face.  She wasn't going to cry again, she had already spent one day crying, she wasn't going to spend another doing it again.

She got up from the chair and kneeled to pick of the wipes, placing them back in their box.  She stretched her left arm to reach the last few and winced at the pain inside her elbow.  She stood up and replaced the box on the tray and pushed up her sleeve again.  A lovely purple hematoma was forming where the needle had been violently withdrawn a few minutes ago.  

Claire pulled her sleeve back down and sat in front of her computer.  She was working on a new idea that she had had recently as to how to remove the gland.  It seemed promising.

****

"Hey Hobbes, have you noticed anything unusual about the Keep lately?"

"Unusual how?" asked Bobby, looking up from his desk.

"I don't know.  She seems more stressed, tired, upset I guess."

"Well you do keep her pretty busy with your trips off the deep end my friend."

Darien gave Bobby a sideways glance and considered this.

"Do you really think I'm causing her that much stress?" asked Darien, guilt touching his voice.

"I'm sure she's fine Fawkes.  She's probably just working too much." Offered Bobby by way of explanation.

Darien nodded left Bobby's office, formulating his own plan of answer seeking.

****

Claire was watching her computer screen as the processor spit out rows of numbers into a spread sheet.  Catching herself in mid yawn, she looked at the clock, lunch time.  She saved her spreadsheet and pushed herself away from the desk and stood up, stretching sore neck and back muscles.  She always felt pretty good about lunch time, she hoped it meant the chemo was working.  She didn't look forward to the evening however, that was when the nausea set in.  Claire picked up her jacket and purse and left the keep.

Darien was walking down the hall when he heard Claire's footsteps.  He knew they were hers because of the light click of her shoes.  Not wanting to be seen he quicksilvered, and watched Claire leave the Keep and walk right by him where he stood. 

He quietly continued down the hall, quicksilver flaking off of him as he slid his keycard through the lock next to the door.  He entered the Keep and looked around.  Nothing seemed to be out of order or unusual.  He wandered past the animals and to the cooler.  He saw the vials of counteragent sitting on the shelf and instinctively checked his wrist where the currently all green tattoo resided.

He looked past the counteragent to the yellowish vials.

"What's that?" he murmured. 

He opened the cooler and picked up a vial.  They were plain with the exception of a solitary string of numbers and letters reading X-F4x15MM, which meant nothing to him.  

"Hmm, I wonder what this is?" he thought out loud holding the vial up to the light.  Shrugging he replaced it in the rack and closed the cooler.  He's ask Claire about it later.

He wandered over to her computer and glanced over the papers littering her desk.  Facts, figures and schematic printouts covered the immediate area.  He carefully lifted the top layer and scanned the documents underneath, nothing caught his attention. 

Sighing at the lack of answers he was uncovering he left the Keep.  He supposed he was going to have to ask her again.

****

Claire worked on enjoying a light lunch at a nearby coffee shop but couldn't stop herself from thinking about the foods return path later that night.  She pushed away her half finished soup and sipped at her orange juice.  

She looked at her watch, she was scheduled for her second shot in two hours.  It was always the second shot that made her sick.  

Finishing her orange juice, Claire stood up and walked to the counter to pay her bill.  After doing so she slowly walked back to the Harding Building.  She did have one glimmer of joy to think about, the spreadsheet data she had been working on before she left for lunch was all pointing in a positive direction.

Entering the building, she stepped onto the elevator and continued to the Keep.  Hanging up her coat she sat back down at her computer.  She scanned the data again and once again felt the hope that rested deep within her being.  She hoped this really would be Darien's chance. 

****

Bobby had dragged Darien out to meet some source of his and they were just returning.

"See, what did I tell you?  Hobbes-Net comes through again, my friend." Said Bobby cockily.

"Well at least we weren't shot at this time." Replied Darien.

"Yeah, well…yeah." Was Bobby's faltering reply.  "I have some paper work to do.  Can you stay out of trouble for the rest of the day?" asked Bobby.

"Yes Hobbes, contrary to popular belief I am capable of taking care of myself." Quipped Darien.

Bobby nodded and went to his office.  Darien continued down the hall to the Keep.  He knew something was up, that she was hiding something, which made him incredibly nervous since chances were it had something to do with the gland and it's continuing campaign to make his life miserable.

He slid his keycard though the scanner and walked in as the door opened.  Claire was perched on the edge of the chair, left sleeve rolled up to expose her forearm.  Darien saw the all to familiar syringe delivering the yellowish contents into her arm. 

What was she doing?  Was that the stuff he had found earlier?  What was it?

"Umm…Claire?" asked Darien, pausing to clear his throat.

She jumped and jerked the syringe out of her arm.  She turned towards him, a look of fearful panic mixed with guilt, shame, and anger crossing her face.

"Damn it Darien, what are you doing here?" she asked, trying to force the quaver out of her voice.

"I was about to ask you the same thing." Replied Darien, trying to dispel some of the tension.

"Nothing you need to worry about." She said pointedly, setting the syringe down and pulling her sleeve down.

"That doesn't look like nothing." Darien said nodded towards the tray were the hypodermic lay.

"Look Darien, I'm fine like I already told you earlier.  It's just something…" Claire's voice faded as she stood up and proceeded to faint.

Darien rushed to her side, rolling her to her back.  He palpated her neck, searching for her pulse.

"Claire…Claire.  Hey Keepy, Keepy Claire, are you alright?" asked Darien as she regained consciousness.

Claire turned her face away from him, embarrassment washing over her.  She had fainted, she hadn't fainted after an injection for quite awhile.  She used to after every shot since the chemo was such a shock to her system in the beginning.

"Here, let me help you up." Said Darien standing, pulling her with him.

"I'm fine Darien." She tried again, appalled at the weakness in her voice.

"Unt uh, that won't work this time." He said shaking his head, "What's up?" he asked, settling her on the chair.

Claire looked into the imploring eyes, wanting to wrapped in the comfort that they offered.  She closed her eyes and laid her head back.  Should she tell him?  She knew he would just worry unnecessarily.

"Darien…" she started softly.  "Darien, I'm ok right now.  Sometimes it makes me faint, that's all."

"The yellow stuff, X-F4x15MM, what is it?"

"How do you know the prescription code?" asked Claire, the answer arriving as she asked the question.  "You've already been looking through things haven't you?" 

"Well, just a little bit." Admitted Darien.  "You were acting so odd this morning I couldn't help a little invisible snooping."

Claire sighed.  The practical part of her mind winning the battle in her brain and settling on the truth.

"Darien you have to understand that right now I'm fine, I don't even feel sick."

Darien's eyes widen at the word sick.  "Sick?" he asked quietly.

"Leukemia." She said flatly.  "The yellow stuff, as you put it, is an experimental chemotherapy that I offered to try.  The Official doesn't know, Bobby doesn't know, Eberts doesn't know, you're the only one I've told."

Darien was silent in his shock.  Keeper-leukemia…Keeper-leukemia…Keeper-leukemia…those two words spun around in his head.

"So you're alright?" asked Darien.

"I am right now." Answered Claire, trying to keep a waver out of her voice.

"Oh Claire." Said Darien softly, standing and embracing her.  "I always said that you could tell me anything."

Claire nodded against his shoulder and let her tears fall on his shirt.  The relief of having told someone was immense, yet quite possibly the most frightening thing she had ever done.  She was no longer in control, she was just pretending she was.

"Claire?" Darien's voice shook her away from her thoughts.

"Hmm?" 

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"I…I didn't want to let anyone down.  People depend on me, you depend on me." She answered softly.

"Claire, you've never let anyone down, especially me."

Claire nodded again and sighed into the comforting shoulder.

"Thank you Darien."  
           "For what?"

"For being here, for listening, for not freaking out, for being my friend."

"Any time Keep, any time."


	2. Gift of Life

Chapter Two: Gift of Life  
  
The last three months had been quite successful. All the preliminary testing on QSR-800 was showing positive signs. Claire still hadn't told Darien, the Official wouldn't let her. As of now Claire was finishing up the 14th computer simulation of QSR-800, which stood for Quicksilver Removal, trial number eight. She stood up from her computer and stretched. Glancing at the clock she realized it was time for chemo shot number two.  
  
Sighing she walked over to the cooler and retrieved a small yellow bottle. Prepping a syringe and her arm she injected herself. She grimaced as the subtle, yet persistent burning sensation coursed her through her arm. She was never going to get used to that she supposed. Dispensing of the used hypodermic she went back to her computer. She knew she only had about two hours of work time left before she started feeling sick.  
  
****  
  
Claire was lying in bed, trying to watch the evening news between bouts of nausea. At least she always felt better by morning. Settling down into her many pillows Claire clicked off the TV and her table lamp and tried to fall asleep.  
  
****  
  
The next morning Claire was woken by the persistent ringing of her telephone. Grumbling, she rolled over and looked at her alarm clock. It was 5am. Who in their right mind was calling her at 5am? She dragged her arm up and groped for the receiver.  
  
"'ello?" she mumbled.  
  
"Keep? It's Bobby. Darien's gone off the deep end, we need you here immediately." Responded Bobby's panicked voice.  
  
"Where's here?" asked Claire. Pushing back her blankets.  
  
"The Agency, in the Keep."  
  
"I'll be right there." Said Claire hanging up.  
  
Claire got up and hurried to the bathroom, grabbing yesterday's jeans from the hamper and a sweatshirt she got dressed. Snatching her purse from her desk as she left the house she sped over to the Harding building.  
  
She could hear Darien's muffled shouts as she made her way down to the Keep. When she entered she saw Bobby trying to keep his partner calm on the examining chair, she quickly got a dose of Counteragent went to Darien's side.  
  
"Hold him Bobby, hold him."  
  
Bobby tried his best to restrain his thrashing partner. Claire managed to plunge the hypodermic into a vein in his neck and injected the blue liquid.  
  
Darien tensed, his eyes rolling back, and finally began to relax as the Counteragent took effect.  
  
"What sent him into QSM?" Claire asked Bobby.  
  
"We were pulling surveillance and Darien needed to apprehend our target. Guess he was too close to needing another shot." Said Bobby, watching his partner who was still dazed from the last 20 minutes of his life.  
  
"Bobby?" questioned a small voice.  
  
"Hey partner, how are you feeling?"  
  
"Crappy."  
  
Bobby smiled and Claire tried hard not to. Bobby turned to Claire with the start of a question when he finally got a good look at her.  
  
"Keepy, are you all right?" he asked, concern heavy in his voice.  
  
Claire took a moment to realize Bobby's didn't know.  
  
"I'm fine Bobby; you woke me up in the middle of the night. I'm fine." She said, forcing a smile.  
  
Bobby nodded, disbelief on his face betraying his feelings. Darien watched the exchange between the two and cleared his throat, giving Claire a way out.  
  
"You have to watch the monitor more carefully Darien." She admonished gently.  
  
Darien nodded and sat up.  
  
"Are we ready to go?" asked Bobby.  
  
Claire nodded and turned to her computer to note the day's occurrence.  
  
"Coming Fawkes?"  
  
"I'll be right there." Replied Darien.  
  
Bobby nodded again and left the Keep.  
  
"Claire, how are you feeling? I'm sorry to drag you down here."  
  
"I know. I'm alright. Tired, but it is 5:30am."  
  
Darien looked at her thoughtfully.  
  
"Ok, just remember you can tell me anything."  
  
The only thing Claire wanted to tell him was that she had a way to remove the gland safely, but she couldn't tell him, the Official had sent down notice that under no circumstances should Darien be told that she had a possible way to remove the gland.  
  
"I'm good Darien. Trust me." She said with another forced smile.  
  
Darien stood up and left the Keep, leaving Claire clacking at her keyboard.  
  
Claire listened to her Kept leave and wiped a tear off her cheek. She was determined to help Darien, she had promised him and she never went back on her promises.  
  
Claire closed the QSM notes file and opened another, labeled with just numbers. Numbers that would mean nothing to everyone but her. The file named 327868 was a draft of her last will and testament. She hoped it was something she wouldn't need for years to some, the leukemia wasn't quite in remission but the amount detectable in her blood stream was very small. She looked pale and drawn, but that was from the chemo more than the illness. She was glad the chemo, experimental as it was, was working.  
  
Claire brought up the section of 372868 that contained her references to Darien. Instructions to whoever his new Keeper might be, and her personal wishes and thoughts to Darien. To the private part she added another number, a number to a safety deposit box where she had stored the notes and instructions on disks concerning QSR-800 without the Official's knowledge. She wasn't going to leave Darien without helping him.  
  
****  
  
Claire had finished up for the day and was tidying up the Keep when she heard the door swish open. She turned to see Bobby walk in.  
  
"Bobby?" she asked.  
  
"Oh, hi Keep. How are you?"  
  
"I'm fine. Did you need something?"  
  
"Umm, well about this morning…are you sure you're alright?"  
  
"Yes Bobby, I'm fine." Responded Claire, hoping he wouldn't push the subject. Claire went to her file cabinet, files in hand, when the room started to go black. She turned suddenly to avoid hitting the cabinet and passed out.  
  
Bobby was standing just inside the door of the Keep watching Claire, trying to decide to whether or not to believe her when he saw her faint.  
  
"Keep! Claire!" he exclaimed rushing to her side. He heard the soft swoosh of the lab door opening and turned to see Darien enter.  
  
Darien saw Claire on the floor and knew what had happened. He joined Bobby and at Claire's side, checking her pulse.  
  
"Not again." Darien mumbled as he helped Bobby pick her up and lay her on the examining chair.  
  
"What was that partner?" asked Bobby.  
  
Darien looked up at Bobby; the worry in his eyes was palpable. Claire hadn't told anyone else but himself.  
  
Claire moaned and tried to sit up, giving Darien a chance to ignore Bobby's question.  
  
"Hey Keepy, how you feeling?" asked Darien.  
  
"Darien…" she moaned.  
  
"I'm here Claire, so's Bobby."  
  
"No Bobby." Murmured Claire.  
  
"What is she talking about?" asked Bobby.  
  
"She doesn't want you to know. She didn't want me to know."  
  
"Know what? What the hell is going on here?"  
  
"Claire's sick." Said Darien flatly.  
  
"Sick?" repeated Bobby, clearly unsure of his words.  
  
"Yeah, sick. Leukemia. She's taking an experimental chemotherapy to keep it in remission, sometimes it causes fainting."  
  
"And you didn't tell me this because?!" Bobby almost shouted.  
  
"She didn't want to worry anyone. She didn't want the Official to know because he would probably transfer my care to another doc."  
  
"Darien, stop." Said Claire sitting up, pushing away his hands. "Bobby, it's true. I didn't want anyone to know. Darien, I think I need to go the hospital. Something doesn't feel right."  
  
"Sure Keep."  
  
"I'm coming with you. I won't tell anyone, I promise." Said Bobby.  
  
Claire gave Bobby a level stare and nodded. She knew there would be no keeping Bobby away now that he knew.  
  
Darien and Bobby helped Claire up to her car and Darien drove them all to the hospital.  
  
Claire checked herself in and waited to be seen, she was cool and calm. Bobby and Darien waited with her, Bobby wringing his hands and Darien staring at one page of a magazine.  
  
"Claire Keeply?" called a nurse.  
  
Claire stood up and walked toward the nurse leaving her entourage behind.  
  
****  
  
Darien was at home later that evening, trying to convince himself that the TV dinner in front of him was truly edible. He wasn't succeeding. Claire's condition had worsened. She had been admitted to the oncology ward and was undergoing new treatments. The doctor had said that chances were this was it.  
  
As Darien thought this the small amount of food he had managed to swallow was about to reappear. He bolted to the bathroom and vomited. He remained on the floor in front of the toilet, the occasional dry heave twisting his stomach.  
  
Tears streamed down his face. Claire was dieing, and there was nothing he could do. He had never felt so helpless in all his life. He was going to lose one of the two people that he was closest to. Claire had become more than a doctor to him; she was a best friend, confidant, someone he wasn't sure he could live without.  
  
Still sitting on the floor of his bathroom he heard a knock on his door. Forcing himself to get up he padded across the living room, not bothering to wipe the tears from his face.  
  
He opened the door to reveal Bobby standing in the hallway.  
  
"Can I come in Fawkes?" asked Bobby quietly.  
  
Darien opened the door wider, and walked back to his couch, flopping down on it.  
  
Bobby entered, closed the door and joined Darien on the couch. His eyes were also glistening.  
  
"It's not fair Bobby." Whispered Darien.  
  
"I know partner, it's not. In fact it sucks shit." Replied Bobby.  
  
Darien's tears started anew and Bobby joined him in his sorrow. The two talked and cried into the night. Bobby ended up crashing on Darien's couch; they were woken by the phone the next morning.  
  
"'ello?" croaked Darien into the receiver.  
  
Bobby watched his partner's face, whoever was on the other end must have good news since Darien's face began to light up.  
  
Darien finished the conversation and stared at Bobby.  
  
"Bone marrow transplant." Said Darien. "Claire has a chance to make a full recovery if she can receive a bone marrow transplant."  
  
"That's great. When can she have one? Are they sure it will work?" asked Bobby.  
  
"It is great, that's the one problem though. Finding a donor that matches is difficult. We need to be tested, as does anyone else." Responded Darien.  
  
"A bone marrow drive in other words." Said Bobby.  
  
"Yeah." Said Darien brightening, then just as quickly his face fell, "We'll have to tell the Official."  
  
"Leave that to me Fawkes." Said Bobby getting up from the couch. "I'm going to go home and then go into work. You go down to the hospital and see Claire."  
  
Darien nodded and went back to the bathroom to wash up.  
  
****  
  
Bobby had laid it out for the Official, not giving him a chance to refuse to cooperate. The Official had Eberts draw up a short memo instructing every agent to report to the hospital to be tested as a possible match.  
  
Bobby nodded his satisfaction and left the office to join the others at the hospital.  
  
Darien had arrived at the hospital in what was probably record time. He burst into Claire's room and wrapped her in a hug.  
  
"You're going to be fine, everything's going to be ok." He whispered.  
  
"Darien, what's going on? What are you talking about?"  
  
"Your doctor called me this morning, since you listed me as next of kin, and said that you could recover with a bone marrow transplant."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Oh? Claire, this could save you and all you have to say is oh?"  
  
"I guess it's the doctor in me Darien. There's always a chance it may not work, or they may not find a matching donor in time. There are so many variables."  
  
"It will work." Darien said forcefully. "It has to. You haven't cured me yet." He said jokingly, trying to life her mood.  
  
Claire though about Darien's choice of words. If only he knew that his cure existed on five little disks located in the safety deposit box. The Official still wouldn't let her tell him since he would lose control of Darien and the gland.  
  
Claire swore to herself that no matter what Darien would be free of QSM before she left this earth, if it came to that.  
  
****  
  
The bone marrow drive was in full swing. Everyone in the Agency had been preliminarily test matched and a notice put out to the community about the drive. There were many people willing to come in to be tested. People that had previously been test matched for other patients allowed their files to be released to see if they were a possible match.  
  
Darien was currently losing a game of Go Fish to Claire when Bobby came through the door followed by Claire's doctor and another individual.  
  
"Ms. Keeply we have wonderful news. We found a match. We test matched the results three times, positive match every time."  
  
"Oh my God, that's great!" exclaimed Darien, hugging Claire, sending cards flying."  
  
Claire started laughing and quickly dissolved into tears. She clung to Darien in relief.  
  
"Mr. Fawkes?" inquired the other individual.  
  
"Yes?" replied Darien from Claire's shoulder.  
  
"My name is Kathleen Turner. I'm the director of transplant services. It's true we found a match for Claire and it could quite possibly save her."  
  
"And?" asked Darien, sensing the unsaid portion of her commentary.  
  
"You're the match Mr. Fawkes."  
  
Darien was shocked.  
  
"Me?" he whispered incredulously.  
  
"Yes Mr. Fawkes. You." Replied Kathleen.  
  
"Umm, whoa…wow. Claire, I guess I get to repay all the grief I've put you through." Said Darien smiling.  
  
"I always knew you would amount to something partner." Said Bobby with a smile.  
  
A slightly panicked look crossed Claire's face.  
  
"Can I have a moment alone please?" she asked of the hospital personnel.  
  
"Of course, of course." Professed Dr. Allen and he left the room with Ms. Turner in tow.  
  
"Darien you can't be a marrow donor, I'm surprised you even test matched. Do you realize what you've done?" questioned Claire severely.  
  
"What are you talking about?" replied Darien bewildered.  
  
"The gland, quicksilver, your blood's full of it. How did the lab techs not pick up on it?"  
  
"It's taken care of." Replied Bobby as he saw Darien's face take on the same panicked look as Claire's.  
  
"How?" asked Claire.  
  
"The Official pulled some strings and got the lab techs here replaced with our people who have clearance. It was one of the first things I brought up when I first went to the 'fish. He agreed whole heartedly since he didn't want his invisible man investigated by hospital personnel." Explained Bobby.  
  
"Bobby, you are a God send." Said Darien with a sigh of relief, which was short lived. "Wait a moment, what will my quicksilver do to Claire?"  
  
"It can be filtered." Replied Claire absentmindedly, she was letting the shock of the past few minutes sink in.  
  
"See, what the Keep said." Replied Bobby.  
  
Darien smiled and hugged Bobby.  
  
"Thank you partner, thank you." Said Darien.  
  
"No problem, partners don't bail on each other, or their friends." Responded Bobby hugging Darien back.  
  
Claire sighed and relaxed into her pillows. Maybe she would beat this thing like she had hoped from the beginning. Maybe everything would be ok. 


	3. Promise Kept

Chapter Three: Promise Kept  
  
  
  
Darien was lying on an all too familiar exam table, clad in a hospital gown, awaiting the physician's assistant to come in and start the procedure. There was a soft knock on the door and a young man entered.  
  
"Mr. Fawkes? I'm David Carter; I'll be making the draw."  
  
Darien nodded and eyed the bone biopsy punch that lay on the prep tray. He hoped anesthetic was involved. David readied the receiving tray and instruments.  
  
"Ok, Mr. Fawkes, roll over on your right side, I'll be taking the marrow from your left hip."  
  
"'k." said Darien, not all too comfortable with his current state of dress. He shifted to his right side.  
  
"First I'm going to inject a local anesthetic, you'll be prescribed some pain medication after wards, you'll be sore for a couple of days. Then I'll swab the area with iodine and make the incision." Explained David.  
  
"Ok." Commented Darien again. More needles, goody he thought. He felt the brief sting of the hypodermic in his hip, followed by the cold wetness of the iodine.  
  
"Can you feel this?" asked David, who was gently pricking the numbed area with a needle.  
  
"Nope." Replied Darien.  
  
"Ok, this will be a little uncomfortable."  
  
Darien nodded. Uncomfortable like QSM or uncomfortable like smashing a finger in a car door he wondered. He didn't feel the initial incision but he certainly felt the grinding pressure of the biopsy tool. It felt like someone had smashed his hip with a baseball bat. He wasn't too surprised considering he was having a piece of his hip bone removed.  
  
"Doing ok?" questioned David.  
  
"Umm, yeah."  
  
"Almost done." Replied David with a final twist of the biopsy tool. He placed the marrow samples into suspension fluid and covered them. He then attended to the incision on Darien's hip.  
  
"Three stitches. They can be taken out in five days. Here's the prescription for some Tylenol threes. Ice for swelling, heat for cramping. You should feel fine in about two days."  
  
"Ok, thanks." Said Darien, sitting up carefully, the aching pain in his left hip was spreading.  
  
"Thank you Mr. Fawkes. An unrelated match is uncommon; you're saving someone's life."  
  
Darien nodded and began to redress after David left.  
  
****  
  
Darien's test match had come just in time, Claire was degrading quickly. She was unable to leave her bed and spent most of the time asleep. Some of this fatigue was due to the pre-transplant immunosuppression therapy that will allow the marrow to rebuild her immune system with healthy cells. This also meant that visitors had to don sterile gowns and masks before entering her room.  
  
One of these clad figures entered the room now. It was Bobby. He entered quietly, not wanting to wake Claire if she was sleeping.  
  
"Hi Bobby." Came Claire's faint voice.  
  
"Hey Claire, how are you feeling?"  
  
"Ok, no worse than usual I guess."  
  
"Hey, everything's going to work out. Darien gave his biopsy today; he's at home enjoying his Tylenol threes right now." Bobby said with a chuckle.  
  
Claire smiled. Now that Darien had given the marrow they would move forward with the transplant.  
  
"Bobby?"  
  
"Yeah Claire?"  
  
"I…I just want you to know that…that incase the transplant doesn't work, that you have been a wonderful friend. I know you care for me and I care for you. I'm sorry I got sick. Thank you for being here."  
  
"Hey now Claire, you're not going anywhere. This transplant will work and you'll be up and around in no time. And you don't have to apologize for being sick, that wasn't your fault. You couldn't help it anymore than I could."  
  
"I know, I just feel bad about making everyone worry so much."  
  
"That's what friends are for Keep."  
  
"Thank you Bobby."  
  
Bobby managed to wrap Claire in a hug without disrupting and IVs or monitors. He prayed that his words were true. They needed Claire more than she could ever know.  
  
****  
  
Darien did indeed feel better in two days; the achy bruised feeling in his hip had faded. He was at the hospital visiting Claire right before the transplant was to take place.  
  
"You ready Claire?" he asked.  
  
Claire nodded and squeezed his hand, Bobby had her other hand. Dr. Allen and a nurse arrived, fully gowned, carrying the small IV bag containing what was hoped to be Claire's lifeline.  
  
Dr. Allen hung the bag and the nurse deftly slipped the connection into the IV port already in place in the back of Claire's wrist.  
  
"Ok Claire, this will run for an hour. We're going to keep a close watch on you to watch for reaction and/or rejection to the marrow."  
  
Claire nodded and watched the clearish liquid drip into her IV. She sighed and leaned back into her pillows. She hoped this would work, she knew it was her last chance. With all the chemo they had given her to knock her immune system down if it didn't she would be susceptible to every infection out there, no matter how minor.  
  
****  
  
A week had passed since Claire had received the marrow transplant. The days right after wards she had showed a remarkable improvement. All the blood tests showed that her white blood cell count was rising and the leukemia wasn't infecting them. Claire was on the road to recovery. She was able to sit up and was more alert. Darien had been with her then; at the time he was still required to be gowned since her immune system was still not up to par.  
  
"How are you feeling?" asked Darien as he settled into the green plastic hospital chair that seemed to be the standard anywhere.  
  
"I'm…I'm good." Responded Claire, she was still not letting herself the luxury of optimism, not until her immune system was fully recovered and there was no trace of the leukemia cells.  
  
That conversation had been three days ago. As of now things had become dicey. Claire's white blood cell count had dropped again but the leukemia cell count wasn't rising. Her doctors reassured her that it was a normal reaction and that her body would replace the cells as time progressed.  
  
This optimism on their part was too good to be true. Within the next days her white blood cell count plummeted and the leukemia had started attacking her red blood cells as well.  
  
Dr. Allen weighed options and presented them to Claire. The marrow could be left alone in hopes that it would rebound and knock out the leukemia, they could start treating her with the experimental chemo again since it worked the first time, or they could try traditional chemo.  
  
Claire wouldn't let herself think about it. She opted to try X-F4x15MM again since it worked once. The familiar yellow liquid made a reappearance and the twice daily shot regimen was upped to four shots a day in hopes of getting ahead of the leukemia.  
  
With her already depleted immune system the chemo hit her like a rock. She couldn't move and spent almost the whole day asleep. Darien and Bobby kept a vigil beside her bed 24 hours a day. Claire was never left alone, the hope that she would make a recovery was slipping further and further away.  
  
The Official and Eberts made a brief appearance after being informed of the failed bone marrow transplant. Claire's condition broke through the Official's hardened demeanor and Eberts fought hard to keep back tears. The group had become surprisingly close despite the bureaucracy involved; they were losing what amounted to a family member.  
  
During one period while Claire was awake she was trashing about weakly, murmuring Darien's name. Darien went to her side and picked up her hand.  
  
"I'm here Claire, I'm here." Whispered Darien soothingly.  
  
"421…88." Mumbled Claire.  
  
Darien looked at Bobby, whose face showed the same puzzled look featured on Darien's.  
  
"Claire, honey, what does that mean?" asked Darien gently.  
  
"Deposit box. It's the number of a deposit box." She said with a burst of strength. "The key's…in…my desk. You," she continued, gesturing toward Darien, "there're disks for you."  
  
"What disks?" asked Darien.  
  
"For you. QSR-800." She mumbled.  
  
Darien looked at Bobby again, who shrugged, neither of them knew what she was talking about.  
  
Darien was about to continue his questioning when Claire had slipped into sleep again. He settled in his chair to wait for her to wake up again.  
  
****  
  
Darien had waited for the rest of the day and well into the night but it was determined that she wasn't going to wake up again. Claire had slipped into a coma. The doctor said that it was possible she might come out of it periodically, but chances were she would never wake up again. It was thought however that she may be able to hear still.  
  
This news crushed Darien and Bobby greatly. Their last communication with her had been a mysterious transference of numbers, of which neither knew what they meant.  
  
Darien remained at his bedside vigil, talking to Claire. Telling her about the day's events, the weather, cards that she kept receiving, anything to keep his mind off the inevitable.  
  
Another thought was penetrating Darien's mind ever so often. Who would his new Keeper become? He didn't want anyone else; no one else could understand him. He didn't even care if a new doc might be able to remove the gland.  
  
Claire's silent release of life continued for three days. On the third the Dr. Allen announced that her lungs were filling with fluid. Since Claire had given Darien the "power of attorney" as it were to make her final decisions, Dr. Allen presented Darien with two options.  
  
One, they could put her on ventilator until the leukemia completely ravaged her body; or two, they could make her comfortable and let her slip away.  
  
Darien couldn't believe he had been left with such a decision. What was Claire thinking he wondered. Sure he cared about her, but this was intolerable. He finally decided, after an endless discussion with Bobby about how Claire would want it, to keep her comfortable. He didn't want Claire to die of course, but he didn't want her to suffer either.  
  
Once Claire's lungs had started filling with fluid, the end came quickly. Bobby remained at her side with Darien, each clasping a hand.  
  
The respiration monitor had begun alerting to Claire's lessening breath rate and the nurse clicked off the tone. Darien watched Claire breathe, slowly drawing in a breath, and waiting the eternity that passed before it was exhaled. More and more time passed between breaths.  
  
He glanced at Bobby's face and saw that it was creased with grief. Bobby caught his glance and their eyes locked, they both knew the truth that was coming, and neither could stop it.  
  
Darien felt a shudder course through the hand he was so tenderly holding and looked back down at Claire. With a final breath that was more like a sigh of relief, Claire exhaled her last.  
  
Darien held his breath as he felt her hand relax and the cardiac monitor sound. He couldn't let go of her, he couldn't lose his Keeper.  
  
Darien remained motionless at Claire's side until he felt the nurse gently place a hand on his shoulder. He turned to her with a blank stare, not comprehending, not wanting to.  
  
Bobby had moved away from his side of the bed, he was standing by the wall, his arms wrapped around himself, as if he was trying to shield himself from what had really happened.  
  
Darien relinquished Claire's hand and soundlessly leaned over her, gently placing a delicate kiss on her lips, a final good bye.  
  
****  
  
Claire was buried two days later. The funeral included every Agency employee, a few friends, and Claire's parents. Darien let silent tears run down his face to entire time; the wrenching grief was tearing a hole right through him. The combination of anger, fear of the future, and immense sadness was overwhelming. Bobby was as torn up; he silently shook with his sobbing while the prayers were said.  
  
After the service Darien solemnly approached Claire's parents.  
  
"Mr. and Mrs. Keeply?" he asked with a voice rough from crying.  
  
They nodded and Claire's mom wiped her eyes.  
  
"Claire," Darien began, choking on the name, "was my doctor. She is… was, quite possibly the best thing that ever happened to me. She was a very close friend. I'm sorry for your loss."  
  
Claire's mom's tears started anew and her father nodded. Darien began to walk away when Claire's mom spoke.  
  
"Excuse me, what's your name?" she asked.  
  
"Fawkes, Darien Fawkes." He replied, and the thought that he would never hear those words spoken by the feisty British accent again struck his mind. More tears sprang to his eyes and he wiped them away with his hand.  
  
"Elizabeth Keeply." Claire's mom responded.  
  
Darien nodded. A connection had been made through shared grief.  
  
Elizabeth walked away with Claire's father and Darien with Bobby. Each pair left to try and rebuild their respective lives.  
  
****  
  
Darien had remained alone and silent for days after the funeral. He returned to work, but without any enthusiasm. His new Keeper, whom he couldn't bring himself to call Keeper, was a young guy named Ross Hubbard. He had been briefed on the entire project and given access to all of Claire's notes and research.  
  
He was working for the Official and not for Darien. Darien knew that Hubbard wouldn't try to remove the gland for his sake; that would only happen if the Official ordered it harvested.  
  
One day, while receiving his counteragent shot, he remembered Claire's words.  
  
"Hubbard? Do you know what QSR-800 is?" he had asked.  
  
Hubbard had professed no knowledge of the code and returned to the computer. Darien had remembered what Claire had said, he needed that key.  
  
Darien hung around the Harding building until Hubbard left for lunch. Darien returned to the Keep and passed this key card through the lock. The door slid open and he went immediately to Claire's, Hubbard's, desk.  
  
He quickly opened drawers and rifled through the papers and supplies. He came across one drawer that was locked. Since he hadn't found the key he assumed that's where it was stashed.  
  
Grabbing a pen he opened the lock and saw the key lying amongst Claire's personal things. Apparently no one had cleaned out her desk yet.  
  
Darien picked up the key and slipped it into his pocket. He also retrieved Claire's gun, day planner and cell phone. Quicksilvering himself and the items that didn't belong to Hubbard he left the Keep.  
  
Darien flipped through Claire's day planner and came across the name of a bank, Western Liberty Bank. Darien pulled out the safety deposit box key, the letters WLB and the numbers 421-88 were inscribed on it.  
  
Darien drove to Western Liberty Bank and requested to open a safety deposit box, number 421-88. He was shown to the vault and his key, along with the bank's key opened a small box. It was placed on the table and Darien opened it.  
  
It was empty save for a manila envelope. Darien picked up the envelope and opened it, placing its contents on the table. Five floppy disks and a sheet of paper.  
  
The paper was a letter, instructing the person who obtained the disks to use them immediately in their numbered order.  
  
Darien placed the disks back in the envelope and went to Bobby's. He knocked on the door and was greeted by a ragged looking Hobbes.  
  
"Darien? Everything alright?"  
  
"Yeah. Umm, I went…" he couldn't finish, and held up the envelope by way of explanation.  
  
Bobby nodded and ushered Darien in. They sat down at his computer and inserted the first disk. They opened the first file, which was another set of instructions, only much more in depth.  
  
They instructed Darien to call (406) 545-8821, where he would reach a Dr. Walker. Dr. Walker was a close friend of Claire, a fellow classmate during her extensive studies. Claire had briefed Dr. Emily Walker on the entire project should she die. She hadn't told the Official because she knew that he would never stand for another doctor who thought the same way she did, explained the file.  
  
Darien called the number and was warmly greeted by Dr. Walker. Emily had been waiting for his call ever since she had read Claire's obituary. Darien explained where he was and Dr. Walker told him to expect her in two days. She knew what Claire had left on the disks.  
  
Darien finished his conversation and informed Bobby of whom Dr. Walker was. Bobby questioned Darien in his usual manner, informing Darien that they had no idea who this Dr. Emily Walker person was. Darien shooed him away. Claire had wanted this, whatever it was, and he wasn't about to go against her wishes, posthumously as they may be.  
  
****  
  
Two days later Darien was waiting at the airport for flight 4589 to arrive from Salt Lake. Dr. Walker stepped off and headed right to Darien.  
  
"Claire told me what you looked like." Said Dr. Walker as she approached.  
  
Darien nodded and walked with Emily to his waiting car.  
  
Back at Hobbes apartment Dr. Walker went though the disks.  
  
"Yep, it's all here. Claire told me that QSR-800 would work and I can't see any faults. You're going to be free Darien."  
  
"What are you talking about?" asked Darien.  
  
"You don't know?"  
  
"Know what?" asked Darien, growing more confused.  
  
"QSR-800. Claire found a way to remove the gland safely. That's what QSR- 800 stands for, Quicksilver gland Removal, trial eight." Explained Emily.  
  
"I bet the Official wouldn't let her tell you Fawkes." Spoke Bobby.  
  
"You're probably right Hobbes." Replied Darien. "What does this removal entail?"  
  
"It's simple, non-surgical. All the information I need is one these disks. Claire developed a retroviral gene therapy that targets just the gland's DNA signature. It basically dissolves the gland, leaving the brain tissue intact." Continued Dr. Walker.  
  
"That's it? That's all there is to it?"  
  
"Yep, I'll need three or four days to construct the retrovirus and then you're free in 24 hours."  
  
Darien was speechless. Claire had always promised to get the gland out of his head safely, and now she had done it. Darien let his tears fall once more and he looked up at Bobby, who was also crying.  
  
"You have no idea what this means to me." Darien told Emily. "Thank you."  
  
Emily nodded and wiped away her own tears, she still couldn't believe one of her best friends was gone.  
  
****  
  
The next day after undergoing Claire's retroviral gene therapy Darien was no longer able to quicksilver. One last dose of counteragent had broken up what remained in his system and the dissolution of the gland had commenced. He was free of the quicksilver gland; he was no longer a slave to the Agency. He hadn't told the Official, but he just intended to give his two weeks notice.  
  
It was late that afternoon that Darien went to Claire's grave. He placed a dozen white roses next the headstone, which was inscribed "Claire Anne Keeply, 1968-2002, A dear daughter and friend called home by the Lord. You will be missed.".  
  
Darien settled in front of the marble stone, reading the inscription.  
  
"You have no idea how much I miss you right now Keepy." He spoke softly. "I called Dr. Walker, I'm free now. I understand why you didn't tell me before."  
  
Darien paused and felt the familiar sting of tears wet his eyes.  
  
"I miss you so much Claire, you saved me, and I couldn't save you. I'm so sorry I couldn't save you." He sobbed.  
  
Darien remained seated in front of Claire's headstone until the sun had set. He finally shook himself out of his trance and stood up.  
  
"Thank you Claire. I never doubted you. Promise kept, just like you always said." 


End file.
